


Jean's Walls

by nemiyo



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Universe, I'm Sorry, M/M, Pining, honestly just a bit sad, pining!Marco, vulnerable jean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:18:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9791537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nemiyo/pseuds/nemiyo
Summary: Pining Marco and not so blissfully unaware Jean share a bunk where Marco gets an insight into Jean's hidden weakness.





	

Again, for the third time this week, I lay awake. Completely still save for my heart hammering inside me and my chest rising and falling shakily. For the third time this week, I deprive myself of rest only to lay here, silently hyper-aware. Every hair on my body stands upright as my mind runs rampant and my lips gasp dryly. For the third time this week, I will lethargically drag myself out of bed come morning and will myself into not falling asleep during training again. Cautiously, I rest my shaky on the arm draped across my waist and sigh, a little to myself and little to whatever god is out there for putting me in this situation. For the third time this week I indulge myself in my guilty pleasure. For as long as I can remember sharing a bunk with Jean I can remember awaking in the middle of the night to find him curled around me fast asleep. It happens more often than not, perhaps every night, but I wouldn’t know.

I trace my fingers down from his wrist to his elbow, feeling goosebumps rise at my foreign touch. Jean lies with his head on my chest and an arm thrown over me half-hazardly while one leg is tangled between mine and the other is stretched over all three. I can just make out his features through the dim light, courtesy of the moonlight streaming in through the dormitory window. The shadow of his eyelashes looms over his cheeks, contorting his already angular cheekbones to make them seem even more so. His lips are only just parted where I notice the faintest hint of a stream of drool that is now pooling and soaking into my bed shirt, which should disgust me much more than it does. His sleep-tousled hair sticks up in all directions in a way that is more ridiculous than cute, but still cute nonetheless.

I sigh again and remove my hand to rub my temples. What am I doing? Surely this must be taking advantage of him. It’s not like Jean consciously chooses to do this, he can’t help what he does in his sleep. I’m the one who lets it happen. I should have more self control, but so hard.

Times are tough nowadays; can you really blame me for seeking refuge in these moments of guilty pleasure? I need this for my own sanity if anything. What Jean doesn’t know won’t kill him...

“Mmm...” Jean groans pressing his face into my chest and clenching a fist around the bed sheets.

A part of me actually almost expects him to say ‘Marco’, another silently wants him too with sick selfishness, the rest of me is just willing him to stay quiet. Quite a few of the other trainees are rather light sleepers and I wouldn’t want them to wake up and find us in such a compromising position. Though I’ve seen the awkward, knowing side glances some of them shoot at us occasionally which might suggest-

“No...” I barely hear the tiny whimper that escapes his lips, muffled by my nightshirt, but it’s enough to interrupt my thoughts and catch my ear.

It’s a rare occasion that Jean will talk in his sleep, usually just nonsense; random words here and there mumbled under his breath without any hint of a coherent sentence or any consistency in subject matter. Only this time it’s not the same drowsy grumbles. I can just make out the way the part of his face not squished against my chest is screwed up. He is clinging to me tighter than ever now. It isn’t odd for trainees to suffer from nightmares from time to time, especially seeming as the threat of titan attacks is higher than ever, but not once have I ever witnessed Jean act like this.

More indistinguishable whimpers drift from his lips and hang heavy in the air around us. I remember lulling my baby brother back to sleep after waking from nightmares of his own back home, Isaac’s tiny infant frame feeling just as fragile in my arms as Jean does right now. I wind my arms around his back and pull him tighter against me, running my fingers down his spine soothingly while I whisper into his hair. He shakes in my grip and I can feel his heart hammering in his chest pressed tight against my own.

His breath comes out in pants and I realise now that I can feel tears seeping into my clothes. Please calm down, please don’t do this. Don’t cry, Jean. I don’t think I could bare seeing you cry.

I don’t want to think about what could possibly be going on in his head; I just focus on holding him tight and not letting go no matter what. For once it’s him who needs me and not the other way around so I need to be strong for him.

Eventually his breathing evens out and his grip lessens on me, but I don’t let go, I can’t.

Jean, my best friend, why do you do this to yourself? You act so brave, why do you condemn yourself to cry alone? Why won’t you let anyone in, let me in? Why do I need to rely on moments like these to see you at your rawest? You always say how you wish to live in the interior, behind the inner most walls where it’s safe, but did you ever consider that the strongest walls you hide behind are the ones you build yourself? The walls you build to keep everybody else out and trap yourself inside. Please don’t shut me out. Please.

**Author's Note:**

> I probably won't follow up with this just because I don't really like writing in canonverse because it tends to be a bit more constricting and I always feel the need to follow the canon plot which doesn't leave a lot of room for creative liberties. So yep this is it lmao. peace.
> 
> also, haven't really done a proper grammar check so this is probably littered with mistakes


End file.
